


softly like falling stars

by enbyboiwonder



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Diptych, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Spencer Reid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24459709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyboiwonder/pseuds/enbyboiwonder
Summary: The night sky is a dull grey white.An opaque dust sheet floats so lightUpon the roofs and lamps and cars.It settles so softly like falling stars.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64





	softly like falling stars

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [that one gifset of Hotch in the snow](https://thatcsiguy.tumblr.com/post/181913496761/) and also my intense love for hotchreid.
> 
> Title and summary from [The Silence of the Snow](https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/the-silence-of-the-snow) by Ruth D. Velenski.

i.

"You're still here, Reid?"

Reid looks up to find Hotch watching them from the walkway in front of his office. The bullpen is empty; they're the only two who have yet to go home.

"Yeah. I just wanted to finish this up this evening," they say, indicating their report with one hand, "so I told Morgan to go on ahead."

"Do you want a ride?"

They think of the last train and of the way Hotch looks at them when he thinks they aren't looking, his dark eyes soft like falling stars, and they realize they had their answer long ago.

"Yeah. I'll just be a minute."

"Okay," he says. "I'll wait for you by the elevator."

They watch Hotch as he walks past the bullpen, blinking back to themself when the glass doors swing back closed behind him. For a moment, they stare blankly down at their report, before scrambling to shove everything semi-neatly into their satchel; there's no way they'll be finishing _anything_ right now.

Reid stands and shrugs on their coat, winding their scarf haphazardly about their neck before slinging their bag over their shoulder and hurrying to catch up with Hotch, giving him a half-breathless _Thanks_ as they draw even with him.

Hotch presses the elevator call button, the beginnings of a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he says, "Anytime."

ii.

"It's snowing."

Reid stops in their tracks at the realization and looks up, watching the flurries floating on invisible eddies through the light of a streetlamp. Their breath turns to fog in front of them, and the cold burns on their throat on the inhalation, but they don't bother to close their mouth again.

"The first snow of the season," Hotch says. "It's beautiful."

They blink, turning to Hotch, who meets their gaze after a moment, and he's wearing that same soft expression that he so rarely does around anyone else. The warm lamplight glows golden off of his dark hair like a halo. Fine snowflakes dust his hair and the shoulders of his coat, and a pink flush dusts across his cheeks, from the cold or maybe something more. Reid's breath catches in their throat.

"Yeah," they say, and the snow is the furthest thing from their mind.

Hotch smiles, and Reid finds themself walking over to stand a few paces in front of him, fiddling almost absently with the uneven ends of their scarf. "Come here," Hotch says with fond exasperation. He reaches up and gently extricates the scarf from their grip, straightening it out and wrapping it more snugly around their neck; Reid watches him, watches dark, focused eyes beneath darker lashes, watches the way his lips part just slightly in concentration, and they hardly dare to breathe, their hands still hovering where they were when they released the scarf. Hotch meets their gaze when he's finished, their bent heads still close enough that Reid would only have to tilt their chin up a little bit to kiss him, and Hotch must be thinking the same thing because then they _are_ , soft and chaste and sweet.

Hotch rests his hand on Reid's cheek, and Reid clutches the lapels Hotch's coat, pressing closer as they part their lips and let the kiss deepen. Hotch pulls back before it can get too far, flushed and dark-eyed and beautiful, his breath crystalizing in white puffs between them. "Let's go home," he says.

"Yeah." They hitch their bag higher on their shoulder and follow Hotch to his car, ducking their head to hide their giddy smile in the warm folds of their scarf.


End file.
